


A Letter Not For Reading

by Vangle



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, love letter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vangle/pseuds/Vangle
Summary: Basil decides to right out some of the many feelings he had for Simon in a letter that he will never give.





	

**Simon**

Baz was looking intently at a paper. He hadn’t moved for a solid fifteen minutes. I am pretty sure that he didn’t notice that I came. I lean against the bedframe and look at him. I was trying to see if he was really frozen. He wasn’t. The paper has nothing but scratch outs. I take a step forward, causing the wood to creek. He suddenly spins around and gasp loudly. “You freak, why can’t you be this quiet in the morning?!” He yells at me angrily. “I was just thought you were possessed.” It came out as nervous. He freaked me out when he spun around so fast. “No such luck.” I added before taking the books from my bag. Penny scolded me earlier this morning, my grades have not been looking their best and Penny say it is because I am ‘obsessed with Baz’. I am not obsessed with Baz; he is just a dangerous vampire who I am forced to share a room with. Penny insists that it far worse to fail during the fifth year. How in the world am I supposed to focus on studying when Baz does things like this? He was plotting against me right there. He likes to write out his thoughts when he’s trying to do something big. During our first exams of the year, I found 3 planning lists. He crammed his schedule to the brim with things to do. He is inhuman and I am certain that he is plotting to kill me.

**Baz**

What in the world was I thinking? Why did I decide to write a love letter for Simon in our room? I am losing it. The fact that I am experimenting with methods to fall out of love is already ridiculous. I was trying to write a letter technically aimed at Simon. I did not ever intend to have him read it. I have not reached the level where reasoning is completely worthless to emotion. At least I haven’t yet. I cannot even write a simple letter, there is a chance that I am completely hopeless. Getting your feelings out on paper usually helps you understand them to get rid of them. I could not even do that. I feel so much. My feelings are complicated and there is so much I want to tell him. There is nothing that he needs to hear. I go into the woods because I needed to get away from the school. Every fucking corner is able to force me to think about Simon. I tracked down a wolf and spelled it frozen. I drained it dry and left it somewhere only other animals, who would eat it, could find it. I sat down on a large rock and pulled out the first draft of the letter and a pen. The first draft consisted of four crossed out sentences and frustration. There was a small pencil in pocket. It was too short to hold properly but throwing away a pencil feels ridiculous. I ditched the letter format and start writing out sentences. They grew and more coherent. Loose sentences became linked paragraphs. I grew tired and rolled the paper into a ball and put it in my pocket before heading back. I felt lighter. It eased the tightness in my chest but I discovered something I knew already. I am beyond any help.

**Simon**

Baz returned very late. I was considering leaving bed and go searching for him. I pretended to be asleep. I practiced it before. If Baz is a vampire, he must have good hearing. When he is asleep, I’d practice breathing at the same pace as him as he sleeps. I watch him when I am sure that he is not looking. I watch him strip. Pulling off his trousers, unbuttoning his shirt, hanging his tie. I was thinking that it was it, but I was wrong. He strips off his under shirt then pulls off his briefs. I cannot stop watching. He pulls on his pajamas over his nude body. I felt myself blushing. I really wanted to look away but it would give away that I’m not asleep. He soon gets into bed and looks at the ceiling. I find myself relaxing enough to fall asleep.

My dreams turned very bitter that night. I wish I could say I dreamt of fighting something or the Humdrum. Yet no. It was summer. It must have been after the first year because I felt small, helpless, and alone. I was in an orphanage. Everyone was glued to one window and I stood a few steps behind them. They were watching a small toddler who was holding the hands of his new parents. They were all sad but I was hollow. If a couple ever came up and decided to adopt me, the Mage would interfere and I would be taken to a different home. I saw them feeling hopeless. I had nothing to hope for. I’d remain unloved. Parents seem to have this unconditional and unfading love for love for their children. They hold them so tightly and tell them that they love them. It is also so much more than that. Kids love their parents doing their chores, feeding them, tucking them into sleep. Their love is shown more in those acts more than hugs and words. I envy them so much. They don’t appreciate it. I wish to be loved like them so much I was stuck in that moment. Watching that lucky child leave over and over again. I was miserable.

“SNOW WAKE UP! SIMON! Wake up!” Baz shook me. I gasped, waking up. I realized I was dripping in cold sweat. “What happened?” I fell back on the pillow. I felt more tired when I did when I went to bed. “You were trembling and mumbling something incoherent. I would have left you but you were to loud. Go back to sleep. If you wake me up again, I am kicking you out to the stairs.” He gets into bed and rolls away from me. I relax into my pillow but I feel bitterness in my mouth, wanting to cry.

**Baz**

Please don’t cry, Simon. I won’t be able to stop myself. After a while, he falls asleep again and doesn’t really heave nightmares again. I watch him sleep. I know it is not good for anything but I just want to protect his dreams.

I wake up, turned to him. I must have fallen asleep watching him. I’m exhausted. Fuck this. I roll in bed, tired. It is Saturday and he is making so much noise. I flinch when he spits in the sink, twice. I needed to sleep some more but when he finally left, I couldn’t sleep. I added a few lines of text to the rough and messy paper but then I wanted to make a proper one. I took one of my nicer papers. It was silky to the touch. I get a heavier black pen to write. I never use them anyway; I just hope it burns well. I look over what I wrote and started writing.

_My Dearest Simon,_

_The world is full of hate. Anger. Resentment. We both get to encounter each every day. I know very well that I am a great source of such emotions for you. You, on the other hand, is one of the few things keeping me from getting consumed by such emotions. You are stupidly kind, brave, and loyal. Watching you every single day is excruciating pain because I want nothing more than protect you from what the world holds. I promise that in the end, no matter happens, I will protect you from myself. I will never truly harm you. If I managed to outsmart you or act quicker, I would regret it forever._

_I am in love with you, Simon. When you are away, I think about when I will see you again. I hate when the Mage forces you to go and fight for him. I want you to be with me, safe and away from it all. I want to see you asleep and not always question if you are having nightmares. I want to see you eat after you always return so thin at the end of every summer. I watch to heal each wound. I want to kiss you when you are hurt. I want to sleep with you when you have nightmares. I want to tell you it is alright and that we will be alright. I want to talk you down when you get worried._

_I love you, Simon. I want everything to be alright._

_Basilton._

I sealed it and put it away to carry it to the fire place.

I did not notice how it fell out of my pocket and floated to Simon’s bed.

**Simon**

I get back late to our room. The Mage was chewing my brains out for hours. I wanted to talk about my dream but he did not really have the time or care. He said dreams are dreams and don’t mean anything. I spot something on the floor by bed. It could only be Baz’s. It was open. I got very curious. What if I get a clue to what Baz was plotting? I know I shouldn’t but I wanted to know. I felt like I had to.

I sat at the foot of my bed and started to read.


End file.
